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Bloody hell, it's hot …
Lots of fires around, but still no loss of life, and outside Tasmania, little loss of property, which is nothing short of brilliance on the part of the fire services and of individuals who have all been hugely sensible about evacuating in good order.
It was 43C outside here today, officially 42.5, so my thermometer may have been exaggerating. We kept cool inside by not opening up the house at all and keeping all the blinds drawn. A quick walk up the hill to Newtown, conducted at a sedate pace and with a break for iced beverages, was more than sufficient in the way of exercise. The air was so hot and dry, it was enough to pause for a moment and your sweat would evaporate, though it was hot enough that I had sweated my sunblock into a white film by the time we reached home.
On the way back, we paused at the bottle shop, 'The high church of Erskineville' as they styled themselves today. At the rear of the shop, there is a cold room where they keep slabs of beer. Some people were actually buying the beer, most were just standing in front of the fans, with blissful expressions on their faces. On the counter, a sign: Yes, it is tremendously hot, but we don't need to talk about it.
Turning off all the power we didn't need helped: chargers and halogens only add a tiny bit of warmth to the house, but every fraction of a degree is to be avoided on days like this. The cats had ice in their bowls and food from the fridge, which was welcomed by the corner cat – Moushka is back, and mostly holed up in her spot behind the sofa. She and Cookie hate each other and hiss wildly but do not commit acts of violence. I am hoping this passes, or it is going to be a Very Long Year.
There is ironing to be done, and another recs list to write, but they can both wait as it is 10.30pm and still 35C. I'll keep reading through hols, I've found another one for the rec list, I think!
Meanwhile, the reality of climate change has led the Bureau of Meteorology to add two new levels of temperature to our national forecast charts: they used to top out at 50°C, now 54. They've already had to use the 50-52 level.
It was 43C outside here today, officially 42.5, so my thermometer may have been exaggerating. We kept cool inside by not opening up the house at all and keeping all the blinds drawn. A quick walk up the hill to Newtown, conducted at a sedate pace and with a break for iced beverages, was more than sufficient in the way of exercise. The air was so hot and dry, it was enough to pause for a moment and your sweat would evaporate, though it was hot enough that I had sweated my sunblock into a white film by the time we reached home.
On the way back, we paused at the bottle shop, 'The high church of Erskineville' as they styled themselves today. At the rear of the shop, there is a cold room where they keep slabs of beer. Some people were actually buying the beer, most were just standing in front of the fans, with blissful expressions on their faces. On the counter, a sign: Yes, it is tremendously hot, but we don't need to talk about it.
Turning off all the power we didn't need helped: chargers and halogens only add a tiny bit of warmth to the house, but every fraction of a degree is to be avoided on days like this. The cats had ice in their bowls and food from the fridge, which was welcomed by the corner cat – Moushka is back, and mostly holed up in her spot behind the sofa. She and Cookie hate each other and hiss wildly but do not commit acts of violence. I am hoping this passes, or it is going to be a Very Long Year.
There is ironing to be done, and another recs list to write, but they can both wait as it is 10.30pm and still 35C. I'll keep reading through hols, I've found another one for the rec list, I think!
Meanwhile, the reality of climate change has led the Bureau of Meteorology to add two new levels of temperature to our national forecast charts: they used to top out at 50°C, now 54. They've already had to use the 50-52 level.
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